


Fire Burns in his Soul

by SilkCut



Series: Keys to the Kingdom [5]
Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night (Visual Novel), Fate/stay night - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Companionship, KOTOGIL CAN BE EMOTIONAL TOO, M/M, and it's probably the closest thing a KotoGil fluff can be written, belated kotodaddy birthday gift, believe it or not it's not smut, but not too emotional, intimacy issues, just the right amount, tensions and inhibitions, while still keeping them both in-character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-20 21:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9516311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilkCut/pseuds/SilkCut
Summary: Kirei and Gilgamesh allow a few fleeting moments of closeness to transpire between them.In which it's someone's birthday yet growing older and wiser was not as easy as it may seem, especially for a conflicted sociopath and a King of Heroes who is more lost and insecure than he lets on.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lefauxlucifer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lefauxlucifer/gifts).



 

 

**++||+||+||++**

 

 

 

 

 

Everything grows in the garden of the church. The lush evergreen is abundant and each flower sustains a glow and freshness unique to its own.

The sun hangs low on the sky, orange and round, while deepening gray and purple streaks spread across the horizon like bruises on skin.

Kirei Kotomine was now thirty-five years old. It was a Saturday and just three more days before New Year’s Eve.

He was in the courtyard, holding onto shears as he pruned a particularly stubborn bush. It had been half an hour since. He only paused for a moment so he can stare at the scenery above with a contemplative expression, as if he was merely admiring the beauty of the sunset.

To a casual observer, that might be the case, but not to Gilgamesh who had lived alongside the priest long enough to understand that the other man defines beauty in other ways more black than pure. If the King of Heroes was a softer man, it would break his heart.

Leaning against the large marble statue of the Holy Virgin by the entrance of the church, Gilgamesh crossed his arms and called out to his companion. “You’re a year older now, Kotomine, and that is a cause for a celebration, is it not?”

“You don’t need a new excuse to drink on my behalf,” Kirei responded without sparing the god-king a glance. He kept trimming with a rather intense concentration as if it was such an interesting activity to begin with. “And alas, you have depleted me of my wines. It took you long enough though, considering the alarming rate in which you drink.” The remark must have been an insult, but Kirei’s bland manner of tone disguised it well.

“Then I shall select one from my cellar. The Gate houses only the finest of treasures,” Gilgamesh pushed himself off the statue, swaying a little from side to side with the nonchalance of a man who believed too much on his self-importance that he can’t even contemplate rejection.

The priest ceased pruning in favor of looking up so he can finally lock gazes with the King of Heroes. His face was once more a blank slate, but Gilgamesh had learned to look more deeply into the other man’s eyes to see hints of his faint humanity bursting through.

“This is a pointless endeavor,” Kirei declared plainly. He held the shears on one hand while he wiped his other hand on the towel over his left shoulder. “Do ancients like you even celebrate birthdays to begin with? Why would you have such an interest to celebrate mine?”

Just to be whimsical, Gilgamesh said, “Because you’re close to my heart.”

Kirei, of course, just stared at him.

Laughter poured out of the god-king easily. He had approached closer before realizing it and was patting Kirei on his shoulder with a playfulness that may seem uncharacteristic but only because none had come to understand Gilgamesh better than the priest who had to cohabit with him.

“Let’s do something fun tonight,” the King of Heroes proclaimed. It was not a suggestion or a request.

Kirei didn’t move from where he stood. His grip on the shears remained certain as ever although his eyes were clouded with some doubts now. He’s had many reservations about Gilgamesh over the years and for the most part of their unspoken living arrangements, both men managed to keep themselves preoccupied. Kirei had his routine as a clergyman while the god-king did whatever suited his fleeting fancies. They can stay away from each other for weeks on end, and the only indications Kirei had been living with someone else were the littlest of things.

Empty bottles of wine strewn about, sometimes even left on the altar that Kirei had to clean up before he can begin the day’s Eucharist; unwashed dishes on the sink caked with sauces Kirei had never himself encountered before; several pieces of furniture pushed into corners as if to make way for something large; or the occasional sprinkles of dry blood stains on the floors which could be anyone’s, if not Gilgamesh’s own.

“How would the King of Heroes define ‘fun’ exactly?” Kirei narrowed his eyes as he stared down at Gilgamesh’s serpentine irises.

“The question you should be asking, Father Kotomine, is whether or not you can even keep up.”

A melodious chuckle escaped the god-king’s lips as he tiptoed slightly to reach the priest, and Kirei himself would bend down a bit so that their mouths aligned just right. Neither of them knew how this even started, but Gilgamesh had developed a penchant for this little game where he would try to flirt or tempt Kirei into doing something scandalous and blatantly forbidden according to religious doctrine. The priest never acquiesced completely nor had any strong urge to break his vows, but often he would let Gilgamesh come close to him like this at first, like a prey daring his own predator and turning the captivity into courtship—until only their steady yet hot breaths separate their faces.

Finally, Kirei would take a small step back while Gilgamesh would immediately withdraw in response. A smug smirk then would grace his lips afterwards, one that the priest may even share if he’s in the mood for it. They did this every now and then because it was momentarily beguiling and quite innocent, and the temptation, he supposed, was always there between them.

You live with someone for so long that the other person tends to leave imprints whether you like it or not.

He wondered at times if he had ever left impressions on the King of Heroes the same way the god-king had on him.

“What are the usual components of celebrating a birthday again?” Gilgamesh shoved his hands inside the pockets of his pants, cocking his head to the side as the smirk stayed in place. “I believe a cake is arbitrary, but maybe we can get one of those decorative streams with color and glitter—”

“I’m an adult man who simply lived for another year. There is no need for such gaudy displays to mark a simple passing of time.”

“But we must feast and drink nonetheless.”

Kirei scoffed lightly as he continued trimming the bush again. “You’ve done enough of those things. What should make this any different?”

“Weren’t you listening to me?” Gilgamesh’s smile widened into something clearly malicious. Those wine-dark eyes even sparkled as he removed his hands from his pockets so he can show his palms to the priest. “I told you already, didn’t I?”

“Because I’m ‘close to your heart’, King of Heroes?” Kirei can’t help but quirk an eyebrow, looking far from amused. “You could do better.”

“Nothing better than the truth,” the god-king’s tone was condescending as he turned to the side, angling his body in manner that can be mistaken as coquettish since he also raked his fingers through his silky hair. But Kirei wasn’t easily swayed or willing to keep playing this game anymore.

“It’s sundown,” he changed the topic, “If you wish to celebrate my birthday, I can think of one thing we can do that can benefit you too.”

“Would it require physical exertion?” The unmistakable innuendo was pronounced, but Kirei pretended not to notice.

“One can say,” he merely answered as he gripped the shears with both hands now and raised them slowly. He positioned the long blades right in front of the god-king, keeping them slightly apart as if he was going to snip Gilgamesh’s neck.

It would only require a precise moment of casual violence, and Humanity’s First Hero would instantly lose his head. Kirei was not one to hesitate if violence was necessary to inflict, but it was the not that case at the moment.

Both men knew it which was why neither truly moved from their place. Their eyes remained fixed on each other though, as if they were waiting for something more definitive or surprising to occur that would break the silence or change what was already becoming a little too predictable between them. As if to bait him, Gilgamesh asked a rather pointed, “Well?”

Kirei lowered the shears as he gave the other man a slight smile. “When was your last mana consumption?”

“Why do you ask?” the god-king narrowed his eyes before he followed up with, “What do you have in mind, Kotomine?”

The priest didn’t respond immediately. He tucked the shears under his arm and began wiping both hands with the towel he pulled off from his shoulder. He watched Gilgamesh for a short while, allowing for a smirk to form upon his own mouth as he replied at last, “Exactly what you have in mind now. Shall you indulge me, Gilgamesh? It is my birthday after all…”

The god-king in question matched Kirei’s growing smirk with one his own. He moved to the side. “Lead the way, master.”

Kirei nodded once and then walked ahead. He took the shears from under his arm and swung them from side to side like a pendulum; the blades moving steady and foreboding as they hang suspended above the grass while the priest stalked back to the church.

As expected, Gilgamesh trailed closely behind with his self-assured gait and veiled intentions.

 

 

 

**++||+||+||++**

 

 

 

They were adult men and women this time, six of each. Gilgamesh was always insatiable but fortunately for him, Kirei was a generous benefactor.

The long walk back to the church as the night deepened around them was serene and leisurely. Kirei was never one to speak up first so he was more than content to trudge along the bleak deserted road leading to the steep slope where the destination of his only home lies.

Gilgamesh was equally silent beside him which would be an unusual behavior for a man who enjoyed the sound of his voice as he went on and on about his own personal rhetoric, but the priest can hardly complain about this welcome change of pace. He was simply glad to be left alone with his own private contemplations for a while. Perhaps the god-king felt the same way too, but Kirei didn’t care to know.

It was only when they took a turn where the long stretch of the cemetery greeted them cheerily on the left side that Kirei surprised himself by speaking up first especially with the words that came out, “I like going on runs before the break of dawn because at that hour before a new day begins, it feels as if I’m in a vacuum all by myself and nothing can touch me.”

Without missing a beat, Gilgamesh commented, “Everyone’s past has a long reach. Are you sure your ghosts couldn’t follow you there?”

Kirei shook his head and continued elaborating as if this sudden topic of conversation came naturally to both of them. “There was only me and the rest of the world just didn’t exist. I would even take a detour through the woods because I become even more isolated there; surrounded by nothing but trees and the steady sound of water somewhere.” His pace in walking slowed down just a little as he narrated this, quite possibly imagining the gift of solitude right now as he did. He kept his eyes on the road, however, detecting the slope from a distance.

“You’re a man of solitary habits, Kotomine,” Gilgamesh remarked, his tone neutral. “Is that why you took up gardening out of nowhere?”

“It wasn’t done on a whim,” Kirei, for some reason, sounded a tad defensive to his own ears which is ridiculous because the other man’s comment was innocent enough. “The custodian who works regular shifts came down with a fever so I have to pick up his duties in the meantime. You know I like to keep my church well-maintained, and that includes the exterior part of it, just like that garden by the entrance.”

The King of Heroes gave him a sideway glance but was scrutinizing his features rather sharply even if his entire stance remained casual. He matched the priest’s footsteps, almost as if he was no longer walking on his own volition but was allowing the other man to guide the motion.

It’s been at least eight years since the Burning of Fuyuki. The passage of time meant little to someone of Gilgamesh’s ilk, but it did give him pause every now and then. He knew that he never once regretted his decision to claim Kirei Kotomine as his master or the choice to preside over the man’s quest of self-knowledge. Granted, there were dull moments in between too during the cohabitation, but for the most part the priest himself never became dull in Gilgamesh’s eyes. Something about the man hasn’t completely unravelled yet. There are loose seams in Kirei that the god-king would often get tempted to slide his fingers through just so he can rip it all open and spill what he knew would be worthwhile contents.

Something had always prevented him though. The King of Heroes was a man of both impulse and endless patience. That’s his paradox. Luckily for the priest, he favored reinforcing the latter quality. Still, he can’t help but prod Kirei right now, saying, “You must enjoy it, don’t you? I did recall seeing you plant seeds on a certain area in that garden last month. And this was before the custodian got sick as you claimed.” He allowed his tone to sound skeptical if not playfully accusatory, all because he was curious to see how the other man would react.

“I suppose you could say I have knack for it,” Kirei only responded. The limited answer meant there was something more at work.

Gilgamesh did so enjoy poking dangerous things with a stick. “You mean you have a talent in making things grow and flourish?”

From this angle, he can spot the sour frown which passed through instantly on the priest’s mouth, but then he easily curtailed his expression to something inscrutable yet again, possibly because he doesn’t want to allow the god-king to find a leeway through his private thoughts. The King of Heroes had to grin now as if he was victorious somewhat, very pleased that he was able to invade yet another gaping hole inside that falsified core where all of Kirei’s vulnerabilities still refuse revelation. Gilgamesh almost wanted to roll his eyes. What a pitiful man.

“Is that what you would deem it as, Gilgamesh? A ‘talent’?” Kirei chuckled grimly. There was never any mirth in his laughter which was something the god-king took note of on occasion. He decided not to answer, seeing as he knew there was something else the priest wanted to say. He was right. After only a few seconds of pause, Kirei was speaking again, “What if I tell you that I might also possess a green thumb, Gilgamesh? What would you say to that? To me, it would seem, that God is playing a rather cruel joke on me. To be born the way I am yet raised to be another thing—to possess powers of healing where I can cure the sick and mend wounds—don’t you think they’re all delightful ironies?”

Another chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head. “What makes me happy, as we have both learned together during the last Grail War, is destruction. I want to see people suffer. I long to savor their torment. And yet…and yet…”

He stopped walking altogether and began to laugh, the sound of it broken and hoarse. Gilgamesh was already a few steps ahead where the slope had began, but he also stopped so he can look behind him and watch Kirei come undone. The priest was wiping his eyes which watered a little due to the strength of his mirthless laughter. “And yet now I find out that I can also make things ‘grow and flourish’ as you have said! You were right, of course. I didn’t even know I can do it. Last month was truly the first time I tried to plant and nurture something and it worked! When I saw those first flower buds appear and then bloom a few weeks later—I didn’t know what to think let alone how to feel!”

He started coughing now as he laughed some more, eyes fluttering shut as creases form on his forehead. The wrinkles reminded of Gilgamesh of how old the priest was getting—of how old his own incarnated vessel could become if he didn’t consume enough mana to preserve its vitality.  

“I don’t think it’s that far-fetched,” he answered because he knew he must, for he was more or less compelled to appease the quiet suffering his companion of eight years continues to bear alone. “You’ve always viewed things in a dichotomy, Kotomine. You seem to think that you can only be one and not the other. Therein lies your greatest mistake.” He nodded at the priest to follow as he began walking up the slope now, hands buried inside the cozy confines of his pockets. Once he was certain Kirei was trailing along, he elaborated, “You’ve captured my interest not because you are simply an ‘evil’ man who struggles to be ‘good’ and ‘kind’ but rather because you are a conflicted one who is at war with his own self because you can’t seem to wrap your head around the idea that you need neither be strictly all-good nor all-evil.”

The King of Heroes turned sharply to meet Kirei’s gaze. They were right in the middle of the uphill slope already. The priest had trailed behind a few steps which placed him on the lower position than that of the god-king. In this way they seemed almost of the same height, on equal ground.

Steady dark gaze met the unwavering crimsons of the other man. They seemed ethereal under the glow of the moonlight cascading down both men. Kirei felt as if he was under their spell that could not be broken even as Gilgamesh spoke, “There is nothing more human than that, old man. So don’t be so quick to accuse yourself a monster and discredit the human altogether. As for your sudden accomplishment in botany, there is no deeper significance in the endeavor. It simply is something you’re good at. Besides, don’t flowers bloom best from soil fertilized by dead things?”

Smirking as if he knows a secret worth keeping from the priest, he approached a little closer and raised his hand so he can press his knuckles lightly across Kirei’s cheek. The gesture was random yet somewhat meaningful. Neither of them cared to understand how, though. Kirei could feel a sudden chill on the portion of skin Gilgamesh had just ghosted over. Something about it made him almost skittish but he merely curled his hands into fists loosely while he dared to keep looking into those treacherous eyes of the god-king’s.

Before Kirei could say something, Gilgamesh pulled away, making the withdrawal nonchalant as if such a physical contact between them was not uncommon. He turned away next to resume climbing the slope, but not before he said, “Happy birthday, Kirei.”

The priest had no words. He just stared after the other man, eyes resting heavily on the curve of Gilgamesh’s back. After what seemed like several lifetimes but may have in fact only lasted a few seconds, Kirei found his center again and followed the other man all the way back to their home.

 

 

 

**++||+||+||++**

 

 

Every December 31st, Kirei would hold a special mass for the small population of Catholic devotees in the Fuyuki area. He stood there on the podium, delivering yet another homily, only this one was something more earnest. It was a rare kind of honesty that he, a rotten man masquerading as a man of God, never felt comfortable displaying before others to begin with.

He supposed the passage from the Book of Matthew sparked in him sentiments he’d rather keep buried, or perhaps growing yet another year older just days ago has made him pensive whether he admits to it or not.

 

_“He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.”_

 

 

He repeated that particular line from the chosen reading, his somber yet rich baritone resonating across the conclave of the church as Kirei tried to make as much as eye contact with several parishioners among the pews. He fluttered his eyes shut for a short moment without speaking another word so he can allow for the silence to permeate across the house of the Lord. When he opened them once more, the first thing he saw was Gilgamesh leaning by the church doors. A trick of light suddenly gave his head an appearance of a golden halo.

He kept his eyes there for a moment before he proclaimed, “God doesn’t discriminate among His children. A shepherd would love all the sheep in his flock just the same—even the ones who have been deemed black and beyond saving. In this sense, it also means that God holds no prejudices and would grant the same opportunities to everyone. It’s up to us, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, to decide what to do with both our blessings and misfortunes. This is why we have free will to begin with.” He paused momentarily and then added, “Now you may ask, ‘if God equally rewards and punishes the just and the unjust alike, then what is the point of choosing to be good?”

With a soft exhale, he lifted his gaze back towards the doors where Gilgamesh was still leaning against, and even from this distance those wine-dark eyes were hard to miss. Kirei opened his mouth again to say, “Perhaps none of us can choose to be good or evil in either absolute ways. I believe there are far too many moments in our lives that we just remain stuck in the middle, both at war with the good versions of ourselves we aspire to be while also struggling with the evil we deny we can be capable of.”

Kirei left the podium to walk slowly back to the altar, meeting a few stares from the parishioners as he did. “Often, one side wins and the other loses and only our Creator can decide what happens then. But if we can believe that the saintliest of believers can still be corrupted, then we must also keep an open mind that the most rotten and depraved of men can still find redemption.”

The priest paused, his voice softening. “As long as there’s faith, almost nothing is insurmountable—or left unforgiven.”

 

 

 

**++||+||+||++**

 

 

 

He found the King of Heroes back in his office after the mass ended, stretched out on the couch he favored most. Under the orange glow of the lights, he looked serene and harmless but only as far as a snake that dwelt inside a protective glass case may look safe enough to observe by an outsider. Kirei was not that outsider because at this point he knew better than to be deceived by false security.

Gilgamesh’s eyes may be closed but both men knew he was aware of the priest’s presence, and yet for the sake of subtlety neither of them spoke up—even as Kirei sat down on the right sofa facing his desk. Normally, he would always sit on the left but he chose this other one because it enabled him to watch the full figure of the god-king as he lay there on the couch.

“I saw you earlier,” was how Kirei opened the conversation. It was bland but also straightforward. It lacked deeper commentary.

“And you made quite a surprising turn for this yearend’s speech, Father,” was the ready answer. It sounded almost like a scathing indictment.

The priest said nothing but his fingers absentmindedly began picking through the armrest of the sofa.

Gilgamesh slowly rose from the couch. The movement was languid and graceful that it was akin to an optical illusion. He pulled his knees up slightly and then wrapped one arm around them while the other was perched above the couch.

He met Kirei’s gaze and asked, “Is that why you believe in your God, Kotomine? Because you aspire for absolution; that you think you need to be forgiven for what you deem you are at the core of your being?” The loaded question should not come as a surprise.

The King of Heroes always knew exactly how to phrase the toughest queries and be quite bold in asking them.

But instead of responding to the interrogation, Kirei decided to inquire himself. “Do you think it’s a waste of time that I do?”

“I think we believe we are always entitled to something more, no matter how little we can truly quantify or comprehend whatever it is,” Gilgamesh offered the gentlest of smiles—a very rare yet not implausible expression on his face.

“Humans have attempted to surpass their mortality and limitations for as long as there are dreams for them to chase,” his tone of speech was meditative, something Kirei easily caught on. “And a lot of them just happen to keep falling short. Some of them learn to settle, however, until the day they just disappear into oblivion and anonymity.” A pause. “Don’t you think that being forgotten is worse than actual death?”

“You’re not actually speaking from personal experience, are you?” Kirei knew that the question was a reckless one. It was invasive too, considering whom he addressed it to. It also called into mind the shared dreams he used to have on the night after he and Gilgamesh sealed a contract as master and servant. Kirei saw the myth of Humanity’s First Hero solidify in his mind’s eye as if he was right there in Uruk with him; when he fought the Bull of Heaven; when he held his dying friend in his arms and everything didn’t stay the same anymore.

As if in shame, the priest broke eye contact. He tried to keep his face neutral, hoping not to betray the content of his thoughts.

Still, as soon as he thought of the god-king’s late friend, Kirei began to ponder how love like that even works, and how he should feel about that fact that he will never come to learn it either for himself or for someone else. He cleared his throat as his eyes settled on the clock by his desk where it read three minutes to midnight. The soft ticking of the clock was rather soothing.

“I don’t want to stay in this era anymore,” Gilgamesh proclaimed out of nowhere, and it made Kirei turn his head sharply towards him.

“What do you mean?” Blinking in surprise, Kirei’s attention now stayed on the King of Heroes, trying to puzzle out the enigma in that statement.

“Don’t look so alarmed. I know I’m still bound here in this earthly plane, considering that’s the point of incarnation,” the god-king elaborated as his shoulders tensed up before relaxing again. His breathing was stable and his expression was mild, but Kirei can’t help but think he was missing something important about the overall countenance of the other man.

As if he could discern that the priest was confused by his odd behavior, Gilgamesh chuckled and then added to clarify himself, “Do not fret, Kotomine. I will still stand by you for the next Grail War. My power is at your disposal, master, and chaos and havoc shall rain upon the earth if that is the only way this world will be cleansed and purged of the dirty, undeserving mongrels that pollute my garden.”

He recited that with utter detachment as if it was so insignificant and meaningless. Kirei wasn’t sure what to say so he kept his mouth shut.

Gilgamesh swung his legs and rested his feet back on the ground. He looked sideways at the other man, taking note of the dark brown hair he had allowed to grow past his nape; of the obsidian eyes which showed intelligence and curiosity especially at this moment; before his gaze lowered to the gold crucifix which glinted against the light. Without thinking much about it, the god-king reached forward and clutched his fingers around the familiar shape. He smiled as he inspected the crucifix on his palm before he reached out for something using his other hand.

“I’m going to drink this potion,” he announced in that dismissive way he does while he looked back at Kirei, “And turn the clock around.”

Kirei did nothing but stare, perhaps waiting for more explanation. Gilgamesh didn’t care to give him any and just drank the potion in one gulp.

Closing his eyes, he said, “It’s nice knowing you, Kirei.”

“You’re not dying,” Kirei’s voice was still devoid of any emotion but Gilgamesh imagined there was some concern.

“No, I’m not, you fool,” he managed to utter, “I’m being reborn. Oh, to be young again and unburdened by the world…”

He only noticed that he was still clutching the crucifix around the other man’s neck when Kirei moved closer. Gilgamesh stayed in place, eyes still closed. There was no reason to fear the way Kirei’s hands cupped his cheeks next and tilted his face.

As soon as their lips brushed against each other’s, he remembered the little game they would play and wondered briefly if Kirei was trying to win, and how much Gilgamesh would like to make the priest regret that. But those thoughts became secondary, almost muted, once the barrier between their mouths disappeared and the god-king found himself breathing in Kirei as they joined in a hesitant union of tongues.

The buzz of the clock’s alarm resonated loudly in the office but neither man could hear it.

Kirei only withdrew when he felt Gilgamesh grow slack and lifeless in his grasp, and the hand clutching at his cross dropped slowly on his lap.

He had never seen the King of Heroes slumber before and it almost felt like a sin to see him this vulnerable.

Laying him back down, Kirei began to stand up as he lifted Gilgamesh’s legs back on the couch.

He then headed to his desk to turn off the alarm, glancing at the time briefly as he did.

Something started to loosen in his chest as if there had been a vice grip around his artificial heart all this time, and it was only now that he can actually breathe. The air and everything else tasted differently, and he had no way to explain it except allow himself for once to take a leap of faith and believe it wasn’t the worst thing to feel in the world.

Glancing behind him where the other man lay asleep, Kirei smiled and muttered, “Happy New Year, Gilgamesh.”

By the time the next war hits, the world will come to an end. Here in the humble dwelling of the church at the moment, however, Kirei supposed he could enjoy another year with Gilgamesh who is—as always—by his side.

Some people just make sense together.

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a next chapter for _The Storm in his Heart_ , but I decided to leave that as a oneshot, and then do another standalone fic instead. I was hoping to make this more grounded with a melancholic streak yet still shippy as fuck. I'm currently in the middle of updating other ongoing fics here in the Fate fandom and the xxxHoLic fandom and it's been a struggle since I've lost my momentum for quite some time and my muse is being fickle at the moment, but hopefully I can prevail before February ends. That means I also don't like being pressured for updates. I'd write when I can and when I want to. It's as simple as that.
> 
> I also think we should revive this pairing's tag here in AO3, and this is my contribution to that.
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated! :3
> 
> _*Bible quote is from Matthew 5:45_


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